


Vacation (All I Ever Wanted)

by Samayel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Humor, M/M, Public Nudity, Sexual Content, Squick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-26
Updated: 2014-07-26
Packaged: 2018-02-10 13:09:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2026302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samayel/pseuds/Samayel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three short fics set in the aftermath of All I Ever Wanted</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: Warning! I make no claim to any property of J.K Rowling's, and am in no way profiting by this. I do offer her my sincerest thanks for allowing us this garden of the mind in which we play. Further Warning! This story...and likely any I ever write..are dominated by gay themes and characters. That's how it is, if this in any way makes you uncomfortable...do not read further. 

 

"Scenes From A Beach"

 

The walk from the hotel had been brief and pleasant, if a bit crowded, but now Draco and Harry stood a few meters from the ocean's edge. Draco stood silently, eyes closed and smiling, just basking in sunlight and taking in the sound of the ocean and the tang of salt in the air. Then he stepped back and laid out their towel while Harry unpacked their few supplies (tanning lotion, cold drinks, etc.) When Harry turned to look at his lover again, it was just in time to witness Draco yanking his already scandalously small swimsuit off before lying down on the towel, with his naked, albeit spectacular, ass cheerfully on display for all the world.

Harry blanched for a moment before recovering. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!!! DRACO! YOU'RE... YOU'RE NAKED!"

"Harry... it's a nude beach. This is what you do on a nude beach. I didn't come to the French Riviera to hide in the hotel. I came to tan... naked... on a beautiful beach... with you... in France. Now, shut up and put some oil on me." Draco's voice was perfectly calm. This indicated that he had expected a small scene from Harry before they even left the hotel, and just 'accidently' failed to mention the nude part of the sunbathing to delay the inevitable argument.

Harry looked around suddenly, paying attention to the other people on the beach for the first time. It was early, and the crowd wasn't that big yet, but sure enough, nearly half the couples present were starkers. 

"Bloody hell. Why would people do something like this? Naked! In public! Naked!!! Why would you want to do this?" Harry fumbled through the bag of supplies, blushing furiously while he fetched the tanning oil.

"Sweety," Draco purred, "I love you, but this is why we're traveling. You've never been anywhere but London, Hogwarts and Surrey. I want you to see what's out here in the civilized world and come home wiser for it. This is perfectly normal here. It's very liberating, too. The sun feels absolutely fabulous on my bum, and love, if you got it... flaunt it. Live a little, Harry. Ditch those trunks and enjoy the good life."

"Have you gone barmy?" Harry looked down at his red and gold Gryffindor beach jams, which, frankly, were the only beachwear long enough to hide his rather remarkable appendage. "No way! People would stare... you know how I hate that. That kind of attention I don't want! I'd rather just get credit for being next to the sexiest person on the whole damn beach."

"Thank you, love, but you're just being silly now! Come on, Harry. Really, it's a NUDE beach. Do you honestly think that no one here has ever seen a big cock before today? Get over yourself! Here is probably the one place in the world that you can let it all hang out, and no one will care. No one will freak out... no one will say anything. Just drop those jams and enjoy yourself. The sooner you quit arguing, the sooner I get my oil on... you know how I burn if I don't take care. You don't want me sunburnt and miserable on our first vacation, do you?"

"No way. I'll get the oil, I'll let you do what you want, but I will not... absolutely bloody not, take my clothes off in public. Even if it is 'normal' here, it's not normal for me. So forget it!" Harry started to open the oil when he heard Draco's sniffles. He sighed, knowing what was coming, and resigned himself to the inevitable.

Draco was playing his last card, the tearful breakdown, to good effect. He muttered between sniffles, "I just wanted you to share this with me. All I wanted were special memories to take home, but you won't do anything but what you do at home. It's like I'm here all alone. It's... it's like you don't care about me at all! I try and I try, but..."

Harry let an enormous sigh go. "Oh, bugger it! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I just didn't want to be naked in front of anyone but you. I love you, Draco. You know the only thing in the world I really care about is you. Are you sure you want me to do this?"

The speed with which Draco recovered from his moment of grief was utterly shameless. "Trust me, nothing will happen. Do it, Harry. Do it just for me. If you really love me, you'll trust me and give it a try. I promise you nothing will happen." Draco was back to cooing plaintively before the moisture in his eyes had even dried, but it worked on his Harry, just like it always did. He kept his face serious, but deep in his little Slytherin heart, he was congratulating himself on keeping his boyfriend fully wrapped around his finger.

Harry relented. "Okay, love. I trust you, really. I want happy memories of our first vacation, too. I'll do it... just this once, but remember I'm only doing this because it's so important to you."

Harry fumbled with the drawstring to his jams, his face burning with rising self consciousness.

The shorts dropped.

An elderly woman a few dozen meters to their left promptly fainted.

Her husband continued to stare openly, still motionless with shock as his false teeth fell to the sand.

A young woman, playing volleyball with a friend, suddenly ceased to pay attention to the game and was rendered unconscious by the recently spiked volleyball that struck her in the face.

Small children clustered by their parent's feet pointed and giggled.

A lifeguard, fumbling for his binoculars, slipped and fell almost five meters to the sand below.

A dignified pair of older gentlemen saluted Harry, smiling all the while.

A matronly woman, jogging through the surf, tripped over a peice of driftwood and wound up flailing about face down in the sand.

 

"Um... Harry?"

"Yes, love." 

"I changed my mind. It's okay if you wear the jams."

"Got your special memories, love?"

"Um... yeah. Just pull them back up."

"You're sure?"

"Never surer."

"Alright then. As long as you're sure, love."

"Harry."

"Yes, love."

"Just put the oil on me before I burn. I love you."

"I love you, too, baby."

 

FIN


	2. Scene From A Restaurant

DISCLAIMER: Warning ! I make no claim to any property of J.K. Rowling's, and am in no way profiting by this. I do offer her my sincerest thanks for allowing us this garden of the mind in which we play.

 

Scene From A Restaurant…by Samayel

 

“What did you just order for us, love?” Harry was desperately curious. This was their first trip to a real French restaurant and, given Harry’s lack of experience regarding serious cuisine, Draco had simply rattled off a blur of perfect French while ordering their meal.

“Oh, trust me, Harry! You will sooo love this. All of it. I ordered four courses of standards. Everything you taste tonight will be the embodiment of true cuisine.” Draco was happy in his element; the world of fine dining, fashion, and travel. 

Draco had gotten Harry to dress for the occasion, and Harry had acquiesced with charming ease. Not that Harry wouldn’t dress up normally, but it wasn’t as much of a thrill for him as it was for Draco. What Harry did like, was the way Draco responded to seeing his lover in formal wear. That was worth any inconvenience.

They chatted while they waited, partaking lightly of a rather pricey, but uncommonly delicious wine, and occasionally letting their hands meet across the small table they occupied. 

The time passed quickly, as it so often did when they were lost in each other’s company, and their meal began to arrive, course by course, delivered with a remarkable grace and a certain deftness only found in the most skillful wait staff.

The aromas were enticing, to be sure, and with a smile to Harry, Draco launched into the soup. A look of sublime pleasure crossed his face, and Harry, feeling confident, tucked into his own.

Draco couldn’t help but notice the odd expression on his lover’s face. Harry had that ’fish-out-of-water’ expression that never boded well, and he couldn’t hide it, especially not from Draco.

“Harry? What’s wrong? Don’t you like it?” He hated the very thought that some flaw might spoil his first fine dining experience with Harry. A flutter of worry was already worming its way through Draco’s chest.

“Oh…uh…it’s nothing. Really, love.”

“Come on, Harry. I can tell you’re not enjoying the soup. Mine is perfect. Want to trade?”

“Well…actually…it’s just that…I don’t want a fuss or anything, and the place is wonderful, and I don’t want to bother them…but, my soup is cold.”

Draco suppressed a chuckle. “Harry, it’s called vichyssoise, and it’s supposed to be cold. It’s potato soup, and it really is delicious.”

“Cold potato soup?”

“Yes, really.”

“Hmm. I heard so much about French cooking. I guess I just assumed that…well…you know…they’d actually cook…with heat. My bad.”

Draco giggled a little at Harry’s nervous confession. “It’s alright, Harry. Maybe chilled soups aren’t for you. Try the escargot. I heard they absolutely soak them in wine, garlic and butter here. It’s half the reason I wanted to try this place.”

Harry seemed relieved and moved the soup off to the side, then filled his fork and tried the escargot. The first rush of flavors brought a smile, and he chewed heavily and with relish for a few seconds before swallowing.

“Not bad! Kinda chewy, but I couldn’t really taste it through the sauce and spices. What’s an escargot, anyway?”

“In this case, expertly sautéed snails. Highest quality, too. Their chef is famous for his standards.”

Harry choked. “Snails?! You’re kidding me, right? I just ate snails?”

“And you liked them! They’re a delicacy, Harry. People eat them all the time.”

“But…but...eeeww! It’s a snail, for pity’s sake! Don’t they have any better food sources than that? Who was starving so badly that they dreamed up cooking a bloody snail?”

“Honestly! You killed a Dark Lord, but a tiny, little, wonderfully prepared snail will be the death of you? Just give it a chance, Harry.”

“Anything even related to the slugs I saw Ron cough up is off my menu. Next course. It smells incredible, and I promise I’ll keep an open mind and try to enjoy it.”

Draco huffed in relative silence while Harry pulled the main course a little closer and took a tentative bite.

“Bloody hell! That’s fantastic! See, love? I’m open to new things! I think I just found a new all time favorite.” Harry cut another delicately seasoned sliver from the odd looking slice of meat on his plate and started chewing with gusto. “So what exactly is this?”

Draco shuddered. This didn’t bode well at all. “Marinated and seared calf brain.” 

Harry sat perfectly still, paused in mid-chew. His eyes were fixed on the plate in front of him, then on Draco, then back to the full fork in his hand. He took the napkin from his lap and, with no pretense, spat the contents of his mouth into the linen. Draco cringed.

“Do you mean to tell me…that, with a perfectly good cow at their disposal, one of the finest restaurants in the world, can’t be arsed to serve up something other than the fucking brains?! That’s it. I’m done. If this is French cuisine, I’m sticking to the wine list and some fucking rolls! Wait! Don’t tell me…do they make those out of pig shit? Or how about dessert? Will they sprinkle chocolate on some chicken gizzards? Is there any crime against food that hasn’t been committed yet?”

“Now you’re just being unfair! Harry…people all over the word respect this restaurant. You just have very plebian tastes.” Draco bridled a little. Harry was ruining their special night with this public spectacle. 

“Hah! They respect it from a distance for a reason! I’m wondering who schemed this up! Do you realize how much we’re paying to eat the things that no sane person would want? There has to be a Slytherin involved in this somewhere near the top…I just know it!”

“That’s it! You’ve gone fucking barmy, Harry! First you dismiss the food even when you like it, just because of what it is. Then you launch into conspiracy theories to excuse your being a complete prat! It’s not an evil Slytherin scam! It’s brilliant, and I love it.” Draco lifted his chin at Harry and set his jaw in a direct challenge.

Harry smiled suddenly, relaxing and looking at Draco with a steady gaze that spoke of admiration.

“I guess you love a lot of weird things, don’t you? That certainly explains how you wound up with me. I wouldn’t trade that for the world. I may never like brains, or snails, or cold soup, but I know I’ll always love you. I’m sorry, love. I freaked out a bit, and I didn’t mean to get that worked up. The wine is perfect, and the company is amazing. Forgive me?”

Draco melted. That was more like the Harry he loved so much. He took the offered hand across the table in his own and felt the tension drain away. 

“Nothing to forgive. I do love you, Harry. Enjoy the wine, and I’ll enjoy the meal and you.”

But Draco did mentally promise to request a discreet change to their order for a final course. “There’s no way he’ll ever find out about the tripe!’

 

FIN


	3. This Is What I Am

DISCLAIMER: Warning ! I make no claim to any property of J.K Rowling's, and am in no way profiting by this. I do offer her my sincerest thanks for allowing us this garden of the mind in which we play. Further Warning! This story...and likely any I ever write..are dominated by gay themes and characters. That's how it is, if this in any way makes you uncomfortable...do not read further.

 

"This Is What I Am."

 

It had been over a year since they'd met. They had endured many trials, but still had a love that bloomed brightly, and shone for all to see. They knew more about each other than anyone else had ever known about either of them. Even the closest of couples have differences that make them complement one another perfectly. In differences lie conflict, and from conflict comes growth. Understanding the importance and depth of these differences is the challenge... and that realm is where this story lies. 

Draco was stark naked and on his knees, his back almost impossibly arched with pleasure, allowing his lover deeper entry into him. Harry's right hand was on the back of Draco's neck, and his left hand was on Draco's hip, holding his lover steady while he thrust violently into him from behind. Draco's squeals and moans were only marginally muffled by the pillow his face was buried in, and his lithe body periodically spasmed and shuddered with ecstacy, as his beloved pounded into him like an unrelenting greased piston. 

Their coupling was far more savage than usual, owed to the little argument they were making up for. It hadn't been much. Just a miscommunication that worked its way into a real row, but in the aftermath of high emotions, their lovemaking took a frantic, nearly vicious pace. Harry was notoriously well hung, and though he'd only had one sexual partner in his entire life, his time in the close confines of Hogwarts dorms meant that many had seen the rampant evidence of his manhood. It wasn't anything Harry was personally all that proud of, but it was, somewhat perversely, Draco's pride and joy.

Its length was only fairly surprising, a modest measure more than average, but its thickness was almost improbable, which, for anyone less experienced than the (former) 'Slut Of Slytherin', might have proved problematical. For Draco, however, it proved to be a heaven sent blessing. He surrendered himself utterly; truly pliant, scarcely a muscle tensed, even as his body was sundered by that enormous prick, save for those periodic moments when he would suddenly come to orgasm and spatter the sheets beneath him, all the while crying out various oaths and curses, as well as his lover's name. Harry's grip occasionally slackened, and for just a minute his pace would falter, while he groaned and shook as he came, flooding Draco's body with yet another tide of his seed. Then, as he regained his composure, his pace would begin anew, every bit as solid and fierce as before. 

These long sessions were nothing new to Draco. Over the last year with Harry, circumstances had prepared him well for lengthy rounds of lovemaking, but this one had been truly wild, even by their fairly advanced standards. They'd made up over dinner, and that had been almost four and half hours ago. Subtracting the time they had taken lavishing each other with kisses, it had been almost four straight hours of brutal, full contact, no-holds-barred sex.

His body had begun to thrum and throb and tingle in odd places at random, and he felt as if he'd had too much drink despite being sober. After the fourth time he'd come, he'd utterly lost track of time, himself, or any sense of anything... except the perfection of his boyfriend behind him and inside him, or the constant battering of his prostate that sent waves of pleasure through him. At this point he was almost intoxicated on sex alone, and Harry showed no signs of slowing down or quitting! Both their bodies were slick with sweat, and despite the length of time they'd been at it, lubricant was no longer necessary, largely because of the phenomenal amount of come Harry had released into Draco's body. 

Harry's breath was like a bellows, and his eyes shone with an intensity that was born of the near desperation to prove his love... by making Draco come one last time before Harry relented. In the hazy fog of his mind, Draco could feel Harry nearing another climax and moved his body subtly in preparation. He was always excited by the sense of his lover's pleasure in him, and he often let that excitement bring him to the edge of orgasm, sometimes even simultaneously with Harry. Any attempt at controlling himself was pointless when Harry shifted slightly and drove deeply into him, leaving him screaming and shuddering while he went over the top... followed a few seconds later by Harry's final, savage thrusts, before the hot jettings of Harry's loins filled him for the final time.

Harry collapsed onto Draco's back, kissing his neck and whispering his affections into Draco's ear. He stroked Draco's sweat and seed drenched back idly while catching his breath. Draco was in a state of near shock, traditionally sex left him energized and happy, but while he was definitely happy... he was utterly exhausted, so spent he could barely move or speak. Gods, the things that Harry made him feel! He'd never imagined that anyone could so routinely strip him of any sense of control. Even as a bottom, he had always dominated his previous sexual partners, making them serve his appetite for sex as he wished them to... until Harry. His woolgathering was suddenly interrupted by the realization that Harry was speaking to him. "Draco, love? Are you alright... can you say something... are you okay, baby?" There was a growing note of concern in Harry voice.

Draco tilted his head to the side and looked into Harry's worried eyes, then gave an almost girlish giggle. "I'm a lot more than okay, love... you just shagged the sense out of me for a bit. You're a fucking miracle, Harry James Potter."

Harry looked relieved, and leaned forward to kiss him, soft and slow, then ran his hands through Draco's thoroughly mussed hair. "Here I thought I was the one who looked sexy with mussed hair. Outshone by Draco Malfoy again."

Harry stretched and attempted to stand on wobbly legs, fighting dizziness that nearly overtook him while Draco snickered at his efforts. "That's why I'm not moving, love... at least not until I have my wits back. Might be a bit yet, though." Harry smiled at that, then suddenly blanched white as a sheet, his mouth a rictus of horror and shock. He pointed to Draco's backside, stammering and gaping. Draco felt a creeping sense of wrongness, just from the look on Harry's face. "What is it, love? I said I was fine."

"Draco, you... you're... you're bleeding. Holy shite! I mean fucking hell... what have I done?!" Harry was in shock and rambling, so Draco looked back expecting the worst, and after taking a cloth from the nightstand by their bed, he wiped the rather seriously tender area with a wince, then looked at the results. Nothing all that awful, just a ridiculous amount of Harry's come leaking from him and a few spots and smears of crimson. It was something he was used to... and had discreetly covered for by quickly using Cleaning Spells and occasional Healing Spells after sex. The world of tops was a world of safe illusion, but the world of bottoms was one of realism and a certain amount of tasteful secrecy.

"Harry, it's nothing... really... I can't believe how worked up you get over a little blood. Honestly! I'm just fine... great actually. Just relax."

Harry got on his knees beside the bed, his green eyes misted slightly with tears and his face faintly lined with worry. "You act like that's nothing?! I hurt you... I mean... dammit, you're bleeding, I was too rough, wasn't I? I didn't mean to... to... hurt you... I won't..." 

Draco cut Harry off right there. "HARRY, I absolutely forbid you to do even one thing different. Sit right there until I get back from the bathroom, we need to talk about this... it's probably long overdue." Draco rose from the bed, attempting to appear nonchalant, but this was undermined by the wobbliness of his knees and a distinct limp that came from the effort of holding in the small ocean of Harry's come that was waiting for freedom from his own sore and tingling bum. He took his wand with him, and as soon as the door was closed he dropped a swift Silence Spell about the room, sat comfortably on the toilet and let go of what felt like a lifetime's worth of Harry's spent seed. Then he uttered a mild Healing Spell, and a few localized Scourgifies. All told, it had taken less than three or four minutes to rid himself of any evidence of harm or mess. The weak knees, however, remained. On the way out of the bathroom, Draco couldn't help thinking that he'd struck a goldmine the day he fell in love with Harry; the man was a perfect sweet heart, but a demon straight from hell in the sack!

"Okay... Harry... I really am just fine, but sometimes I don't tell you about these things because I thought they'd just upset you." It was a good start, but Harry interrupted immediately.

"You mean I've hurt you before... Merlin! Draco! I am so sorry... you should have told me... I swear I'd never..."

"HARRY... shut it! That is an order! When I'm done explaining, you can ask questions, but right now you don't know what you're talking about. Just trust me love... please?"

"All... alright. Go ahead." Harry acquiesced.

"I should start this by telling you that I love you very much, but when we started this together, I knew you didn't have any prior experience with other guys. If you had, you might have known about this stuff before now, but I kind of liked that you didn't know. It's all perfect to you, but it's a little different for me. I should have told you sooner, but I swear I really didn't know how. For starters, sex isn't as clean and easy as you think. Sometimes things happen, a little bleeding or such, and it's normal. I'm not a woman, and my body certainly wasn't exactly designed to have you in it. Actually, I'm not sure that ANYBODY'S body was designed to have something like your cock in it! You think I'm always clean because that's just how it is. Well... that's actually the end result of a lot of work. I've used small charms for cleaning and healing, Potions of Elimination, and other things almost daily for the last year. If I didn't, well, let's just say life without magic would be a lot more difficult."

"I do a lot of little things I didn't really share with you, because I always felt like it would take away some the mystery and magic of what we do together. I guess the most important thing for you to know is that I would do all those things and more if I had to, just to be with you. I adore you Harry, you make my dreams come true and I can't imagine my life without you in it. The reality of what we do isn't as pretty as the fantasy, but I'm in love with that, too. I love what you do to me, how I feel, even when it hurts a little it's still everything I ever wanted, and I wouldn't trade it for anything. I love being a bottom, more than ever since we met, but you need to know that being a bottom isn't just something I do, it's something I am, all of me. This is what I am... and I love it. So... no more worrying, no tears, no nonsense about hurting me, just come here and kiss me, you big, stupid, wonderful git."

Harry did just that, feeling terribly sheepish and still a bit ashamed, but Draco had laid down the law, and they might have some words later about keeping secrets for a year, but right now he really didn't care. Draco would always be magical to him, even with the petty concerns of the mundane, everyday world suddenly made obvious. Nothing could take away the way he felt with Draco wrapped in his arms, nothing at all.


End file.
